Just one day
by Loopstagirl
Summary: A bored Arthur decides to be a servant for a day and discovers a few truths about what is really going on.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: as much as i might like to, i do not own Merlin-the BBC does!**

**Many, many thanks to my wonderful beta-MagicByMerlin, for making this readable!**

Arthur Pendragon was bored. He had been for weeks now. The constant rain that seemed to be falling on Camelot meant that it was considered to be too dangerous to set foot outside of the castle, resulting in a very frustrated prince pacing his rooms, waiting for his idiot of a servant to turn up.

Finally, Merlin arrived, his arms full of a mixture of clothes and armour, all of which was dumped unceremoniously at the prince's feet.

"Where's my breakfast?" Arthur demanded, not noticing how tired and worn his servant looked.

"Good morning to you, too," Merlin replied grumpily, trying and failing to stifle a yawn.

Just because Arthur was bored, didn't mean that everyone else was. In fact, because the prince was not allowed outside, Merlin had found that his jobs had doubled, as Arthur had began to notice all of the things that were wrong with his room and had decided it was Merlin's job to fix them – which, technically, it was, but that didn't make it any easier.

"Your breakfast is probably sitting in the kitchens waiting for me to collect it, but that's pretty hard when you have your hands full of armour."

"Well then I suggest you go and collect it."

The look that Merlin threw Arthur was enough; words were not needed. He turned on his heel and made to march out of the room, when a sudden idea hit Arthur.

"Wait!" he called after his servant, who paused, one hand already on the door handle.

Before Merlin could ask, Arthur disappeared behind his screen and when he reappeared, had one of his old cloaks with him.

"What are you planning to do with that?" Merlin looked at him in confusion.

The cloak was worn and old and at least two feet too short for the prince. He had plenty of new, _clean_ ones, yet the one that Arthur was putting on was far from the attire that the crown prince of Camelot was expected to wear.

"What does it look like I'm doing with it? I'm wearing it," Arthur said. Merlin simply rolled his eyes in the prince's direction so Arthur decided to elaborate. "I'm coming with you. You seem to never have enough time to do all of your jobs and I'm bored. So, I'm going to be a servant for the day."

Merlin looked at him for one long second, before bursting out laughing.

"You, a servant for the day? There is _no_ way that you're gonna be able to pull that off!"

"You think I can't do it?" Arthur retorted, the competitive side of him coming out.

"I _know_ you can't do it. I bet that you won't be able to make it through the morning, let alone the whole day without someone realising who you are."

"A bet, hey?" Arthur grinned mischievously as he tugged the hood over his blonde hair and let it cast his face into shadows. "You're on. The loser has to muck out the stables."

Merlin shook his head in disbelief. Arthur really _was_ bored.

"C'mon on, then, _servant_. I still have to fetch the breakfast for the prince or they'll get suspicious."

Pushing the door open, Merlin led the way into the corridor, his grin not leaving his face. He was sure that he had already won this bet. Arthur was too proud to be able to act as a servant all day and be told what to do.

To Merlin's surprise, he found that Arthur didn't actually know his way around the castle very well. Yes, all of the main corridors he could tell you exactly where they went and the quickest way to get there, but to get to the kitchens was a different matter entirely.

He stayed quietly behind Merlin the whole time, only speaking twice to ask if he was sure that they were going in the right direction. When Merlin looked at him, he could just make out an expression of confusion on the prince's shadowed face.

"Have you ever actually been to the kitchens?" he asked eventually, feeling surprised.

He had only been here a short space of time in comparison with Arthur, who had never lived anywhere else. Yet he knew the routes like the back of his hand, and believed that he could do it with his eyes shut if it wasn't his amazing ability to trip over anything that was anywhere near the floor.

"Of course," Arthur replied obstinately. "Although it was a few years ago," he admitted on the end, his voice just loud enough for Merlin to hear him.

At the confession, the real servant started to laugh again, only to be cut off by spectacularly tripping over a suit of armour and landing with an undignified heap at Arthur's feet.

Now it was Arthur's turn to laugh. Pulling Merlin to his feet, he could barely get the words out.

"That…will…teach you…to laugh at…a prince!"

"Prince?" Merlin asked, grinning wickedly. "I don't see any princes around here, only a _servant__._"

Rolling his eyes, Arthur motioned for Merlin to carry on leading the way. The boys were walking down the corridor again, when an ominous sound echoed from behind them.

Spinning round, both of them looked back up the corridor in horror. The suit of armour that had tripped Merlin was slowly beginning to topple, before falling with an immense crash, parts flying everywhere. As they watched in dismay, the helmet began to roll down the corridor, straight towards them.

"Err…run!"

Taking the lead for the first time since they left the room, Arthur sprinted down the corridor, Merlin hot on his heels. They could hear the armour clattering behind them, causing them only to quicken their pace before they were discovered at the scene of destruction.

In the lead, Arthur didn't notice that the rolling helmet had caught up with them. Neither had Merlin. At least, he hadn't until he felt something collide with his ankles, propelling him forwards straight into Arthur's back. Too surprise to react, Arthur fell as Merlin crashed into him, sending them skidding along in a tangle of limbs.

Merlin was desperately trying to stop them from sliding, knowing exactly where they were heading. Although succeeding in slowing their progress, he wasn't quick enough.

"You've got to be kidding me!!!"

Arthur had seen the obstacle lying ahead, and joined Merlin in the frantic rush. The two of them were so tangled up that their frantic movements did nothing to help, and Merlin braced himself as they reached the end of the corridor.

_Clunk!_

_Thud!_

"OW!"

The two boys were sent sprawling down the set of stone steps, wincing as they landed on each one, but completely unable to stop their descent. Finally, they had reached the bottom, only to be sent straight through a wooden door and ending up in a tangled mass of limbs. It was unidentifiable what belonged to who.

"Well, well, well, you do know how to make a dramatic entrance, don't you, Merlin?" the friendly voice sounded from somewhere above them as the two struggled to find which limbs were theirs and attempted to climb to their feet.

"Hello, Mary," Merlin responded when he finally regained his balance. "That was nothing, you should see what I do on boring days. Then you would be impressed. I don't suppose you still have…"

"Yes, Merlin. It's over by the fire, _attempting _to keep warm. His highness is going to kill you when you turn up late again, you know that, don't you?"

As Merlin hurried off to find what Arthur presumed to be his breakfast, the prince carefully made sure that the hood was still covering his face. He wasn't going to let Merlin win this bet.

"Hello, dearie," the plump cook continued, gazing kindly at Arthur. "You new around here? I don't recall seeing you in the kitchens before."

Arthur gazed at her in a sort of horror. He knew that as soon as he opened his mouth, the game would be up. He may be able to act like a servant if he tried, but there was no way that he could talk like one…

Luckily for him, he was spared from answering by Merlin's arrival, a tray balanced precariously in his hands.

"You found a new friend, Merlin?" Mary asked, turning her attention to the servant after receiving no answer from Arthur.

"Yep," Merlin replied, grinning cheekily. "He's painfully shy. You should have seen how long it took me just to find out his name. He's new here, and extremely lost."

"So _what_ is his name then?"

Merlin opened his mouth to answer, but was cut off when Arthur shook his head warningly. It wouldn't take them long to put two and two together if Merlin delivered his name as Arthur. No one was as slow as his manservant!

"Art…Ar…Archie!" Merlin declared triumphantly, quite proud of himself for his quick improvisation. Lying wasn't his strong point.

"Well, make sure you keep him out of trouble. Yourself, too. I don't want any requests for rotting vegetables because you've managed to end up in the stocks for being disrespectful again…"

"I never end up in the stocks," Merlin said stubbornly. "At least, it's never _my_ fault that I end up in the stocks. I'm always covering for Arthur. That's what you get for being a servant," he cast Arthur a meaningful glare.

"Well, I'm glad you can still joke about it. What about you, Archie?" she asked kindly, turning back to Arthur. "Are you planning to get a job here in the castle like Merlin, or do you have other plans?"

Arthur dropped his head, hiding the expression on his face. He should have thought about the whole 'talking' thing before making the bet. The grin on Merlin's face seemed to indicate that the servant had considered all possibilities before agreeing to it, obviously hoping to get out of mucking out the stables. Thinking about the bet, Arthur felt like he had been cheated. Merlin had to muck out the stables anyway; maybe he should invent something else for the servant if he lost. Possibly something regarding a certain hat…

Deciding that he would need to react in some way, Arthur slowly nodded his head, trying to make his actions as clumsy as possible. It seemed to be enough for the kind-hearted cook, and she smiled warmly.

"Well, you can't end up worse than Merlin, so you have nothing to fear, my pet. The unfortunate boy ended up as servant to Arthur, crown prince of Camelot. You should see the way he treats the boy! The poor lamb always looks dead on his feet and I'm sure that he nearly fainted last week, he was so exhausted."

"I did NOT," Merlin exclaimed unexpectedly from behind them. "I was bending down to pick something up," at Arthur's furious glance, he added more on the end quickly. "You know that Arthur's not that bad really, Mary. I mean, yeah, I do have to work longer hours than everyone else in the entire castle, plus cope with his stupid hunting and constant need for his armour to be polished, as well as him - OW!"

Merlin broke off suddenly, rubbing his ribs and glaring at Arthur, whose elbow seemed to smoothly slot back into its normal place by his side.

The expression on Arthur's face was nearly enough to make Merlin start laughing again. It was only the stinging of his ribs from its impact with Arthur's extremely pointy elbow that made him bit his lip to control himself.

There was a mixture of annoyance, anger and almost shame upon the prince's face, as if not sure what to make of Mary's accusations. Surely he didn't push Merlin that hard…did he?

"Anyway, lovelies," Mary continued, "his highness will be waiting for his breakfast and Archie needs to find some work. And I need you both out of my kitchen, now."

"Alright, alright," Merlin responded playfully, as if used to being thrown out. "We know when we're not loved, don't we, _Archie_."

Arthur glared at Merlin, who responded with his usual cheeky grin as the pair of them were ushered unceremoniously back through the door.

As the door shut with a snap behind them, Arthur turned his full glare onto the unfortunate boy next to him.

"_Archie_?" he asked, sounding extremely indignant. "What kind of name is _Archie_?"

"A servant's one," Merlin responded, more sharply than he intended. He knew that Arthur wouldn't be able to cope not being the centre of attention and was starting to get annoyed by his attitude. It was only because of his pride that he refused to call the bet off; more was at stake than just mucking out the horses.

Merlin marched off down the corridor, aware that Arthur was running after him. Before he had got very far, the disguised prince grasped his arm and spun him around to face him; nearly ending up wearing his own breakfast in doing so for Merlin still had the tray in his hands.

"I'm sorry. That was really snobbish, wasn't it?"

"Yes!" Merlin told him, but then broke the stance of being annoyed by subjecting Arthur to one of his famous grins. Arthur smiled in return, glad that he hadn't really upset his friend by being a prat.

"Come on," Merlin continued, "you may be pretending to be a servant, but I'm guessing that you're hungry, as the prince didn't have any breakfast?"

Arthur went to deny such a thing, but his stomach had other ideas. Gurgling loudly, he sheepishly grinned and followed Merlin to a small crook in the wall. Although it was small, there was plenty of space for them to sit side by side in comfort whilst Arthur demolished the breakfast.

"'ow id you fin thi pot?" Arthur asked, his mouth bulging with the food that he was trying to eat. Merlin was watching him with a sort of horrified fascination, wondering how on earth someone could even attempt to fit that much in at once.

"What?" he asked, having no idea what Arthur had just attempted to ask him; his mouth was too full to be able to form proper words.

Swallowing awkwardly, Arthur tried again.

"How did you find this spot?"

"Oh, I've known about it for ages. Every servant has their own spot where they can escape for a few precious moments in between duties," Merlin said everything in a very matter of fact way, as if it was no big deal, but Arthur stared at him.

"Is it really that tough? I mean, I know I give you a lot, but does everyone have it that bad?"

"Yeah," Merlin responded, his voice slightly softer than before as he realised where Arthur was going with the conversation. "I think that Gwen has it the easiest; Morgana is such a good mistress. But everyone else spends nearly every waking moment trying to get their jobs done."

Arthur swore under his breath, startling the young warlock next to him. He felt such an idiot, or as Merlin would so fondly put it, a _prat._ He had no idea that life was hard for everyone else. Sure, he knew that he had it easy compared to the servants, but the way that Merlin so matter-of-fact announced that they barely ever stopped, shocked him. Once this bet was over, he vowed to himself that he was going to make sure that they all were allocated time to themselves, Merlin included.

Merlin was beginning to feel slightly uncomfortable with the silence coming from Arthur as the prince slowly chewed his food, looking lost in thought. Maybe he preferred the arrogant prat; at least he knew how to respond to that side of Arthur.

Standing up, he motioned with his arm to the tray balanced precariously on Arthur's lap, clearly asking if he was done.

Nodding, Arthur distractedly handed Merlin the tray, still deep in thought about how to approach the matter with his father. He climbed awkwardly to his feet, absent-mindedly running a hand through his golden hair, causing the hood to fall down.

Merlin was watching him closely, as if trying to fathom what was going on in the prince's head.

As quickly as Arthur had turned thoughtful, he snapped out of it again. With one sudden movement, he jerked the hood back over his head and attempted to grab the tray from Merlin. Caught unawares, Merlin let go a bit quicker than Arthur had anticipated. Not yet having a solid hold on it, both boys could only watch as the tray slowly tipped, before spilling the remaining contents – albeit not much – onto the floor.

Arthur glanced guilty at Merlin, who simply stood, staring at the food. Gesturing to the mess between them, Arthur asked whether they should clean it up. Merlin, however, slowly shook his head, a deviant smirk slipping onto his face.

"We'll get Greg to do it," he said, the smirk widening. It was somewhat disconcerting to see Merlin obviously plotting; he no longer seemed the innocent servant and friend that Arthur had always taken him for.

"Who's Greg?" Arthur asked cautiously.

"You don't know about Greg? But then again, I don't suppose you would do. Yet I thought that everyone knew Greg!"

"_Mer_lin!"

"Oh, sorry. Greg is the resident enemy of every single servant. He thinks he's invincible, even though he's got one of the lowest jobs in the whole castle. He cleans floors. That is what he does. To say that he is arrogant doesn't begin to cover it."

Arthur frowned at Merlin. He was usually the type who looked for the good in everyone, even when there was none. The prince knew this from experience; the young servant had certainly brought out the good in him, as Morgana took great delight in telling him whenever the opportunity arose. Yet here he was, planning to make someone do a job that was unpleasant, just because the guy was _arrogant?_

"Merlin, I don't think I've quite understood you," Arthur started, trying to keep his voice deliberately slow and meaningful, knowing that Merlin would recognise the tone. "You want this Greg to do a job that you are quite capable of doing yourself, especially as I would give you a hand, because he's arrogant?"

Merlin rolled his eyes, clearly understanding Arthur's point, but also knowing that when the prince heard the rest of the story, he wouldn't be so quick to judge.

"No," he stated, his voice flat. "I would love to give him a job that's hard because not only is he an arrogant pig, but also because of the way that he treats the girls. He seems to think that he is undeniably attractive and that every girl should simply fall at his feet. Let's just say that he doesn't take kindly to a refusal and even tries to take by force what has been denied to him. Gwen was in a right state."

Almost immediately, Arthur felt his blood begin to boil. No wonder Merlin was out for revenge. Even the thought of someone trying to hurt sweet, innocent Gwen was enough to make him furious. Especially as it didn't seem that she was the only one.

"Right," he said forcefully, any pretence of being a servant gone as his demeanour took on that of a prince. More to the point, that of a prince with a mission in mind. "If I go and get him in the role of the prince, can we suspend our bet for a while? I want this dealt with now, and I don't want it done officially," at Merlin's nod, Arthur continued, not missing the delighted grin that appeared on his servants face as he realised what his master had in store. "Whilst I'm gone, I need you to spread this lot out, as much as you can. Shouldn't be too hard considering your knack for mess," a sarcastic smirk was shot from master to servant, who responded likewise. Arthur made to walk off, but Merlin grasped his arm, startling the prince. Merlin had never done that before. This whole thing of acting as a servant seemed to be making the real one more comfortable about doing things that he wouldn't have normally risked.

"I've got a better idea," he said with an evil smirk that seemed to chill Arthur slightly.


	2. Chapter 2

"I'm sorry, I don't know how it happened. All I know is that Merlin is trying to clean it up now and he said to fetch you, as you're the best at this sort of thing."

The voice of a young servant came floating down the hallway, a clear indication that the lad was approaching with Greg. He had been cornered by Arthur and Merlin whilst passing and had been asked if he wanted to help get revenge on Greg. It unnerved Arthur slightly about how readily he agreed, but with a few coins slipped into his hand for good measure, they knew that they had found themselves a helper.

As the pair rounded the corner, Merlin dropped to his knees and pretended to be trying to mop up Arthur's breakfast. In reality, he was actually spreading it around as far as he could, trying to make the job as hard as possible. Arthur was crouched in the alcove in the wall, the hood completely obscuring his face and making him extremely hard to spot. Years of hunting had paid off and Merlin knew that he was able to crouch like that for hours without moving, or becoming stiff. It was annoying, considering the warlock's short attention span.

The small boy came into sight first, looking slightly apprehensive. Merlin didn't blame him; Greg was frightening on the best of days and the boy looked no older than ten.

Next, Greg swaggered into sight, strutting in a way that only Arthur, as the Crowned Prince of Camelot, was able to carry off. In fact, his impersonation of a chicken was so accurate that Arthur had to bite his lip to stop himself from laughing, despite years of practice of knowing when to stay quiet.

As soon as the boy had shown Greg where Merlin was kneeling, he scampered off, as part of the plan. He was on his way to 'accidentally' find someone of great importance, someone who both boys knew would be passionate about making sure that Greg got his comeuppance.

As his light footsteps dwindled away to nothing, Merlin tensed where he was kneeling. He was almost sure what was about to be thrown at him; it had happened too many times before. Part of him was embarrassed that Arthur would have to see, but if that meant protecting others, then it was worth the humiliation. And the bruises.

"So, Merlin," the drawling voice began. By this point, Merlin had set up a little chant in his head, making sure that he kept his temper for as long as possible and reminding himself that it would be worth it all in the end, "you managed to make a mess of things again, did you? Has anyone told you how utterly hopeless you are? Why his royal highness puts up with the likes of you when there are much better men around that would spend every moment making sure that the glorious prince was comfortable is beyond me. But _he_ is just _too_ magnificent to question."

As Greg paused in his rant to draw breath, Arthur stared at him. Not only was the man a complete jerk, he also seemed to worship him. It would have been nice if Merlin had thought to warn him about this beforehand. He was used to people praising him, although it never came from the one person that he longed to hear say that he had done something right. But knowing what he knew about the man standing threateningly over his servant, and the way that he obviously seemed to think that Arthur was marvellous, made him feel physically sick.

Unaware that Arthur was close to blowing the whole plan, Merlin stayed crouched in his position by the sticky mess. He knew that the worst was yet to come, but once it was over, that would be the end of Greg. As the rant started up once again, the warlock began to count under his breath.

"1…2…3," as soon as Merlin reached three, he felt the tip of a boot connect hard with his side, sending him flying sideways. Although it hurt, Merlin had to fight back a smirk that tried to grow on his face.

Greg certainly had it coming now.

Before the young warlock had time to rise, Greg had covered the short distance between them, and grasping Merlin by the back of the shirt, lifted him up into the air, the same way you would do to a naughty puppy.

Arthur could do nothing but watch as his friend was shaken around like a rag doll. As much as he wanted to act, he knew that if he didn't get his timing right, it would all be for nothing.

Greg held Merlin with one hand and continued to strike him with the other, all the time laying insults into the faithful manservant. It didn't take long before it was taking all of Arthur's self-control not to move. His hands were balled into tight fists to try and relieve some of the tension.

Just before a particularly viscous blow nearly made him crack, the sound of footsteps could be hear coming up the hall.

Greg was too busy telling Merlin just how useless he was to hear them, but Merlin did. He shared one quick smile with Arthur over Greg's head, and that was all that the prince needed. He gracefully unfolded himself from his perch and made sure that the cloak was covering him so that Greg would have no idea who he was. Striding forward, he tapped Greg on the shoulder.

The man dropped Merlin instantly with a thud, and rounded on the newcomer. Seeing only another servant standing in front of him, he immediately drew his fist back and sent it flying towards him. Arthur was really tested as he struggled not to react, knowing that it was slightly too early. The footsteps were getting closer and closer, but Arthur knew that they had to be within sight for the full effect. He concentrated hard on the footsteps, making it a lot easier to ignore the stinging impact that came with each blow.

One thing was for sure, Arthur was not used to standing by and letting himself be hit without immediately trying to react, and he was finding it very difficult indeed.

At last, Arthur sensed the footsteps around the corner. It was perfect timing as well, as Greg once more struck the disguised prince. Arthur dropped to the floor, looking for the entire world like the blow had knocked him out. This was the signal to Merlin, who had been lying on the floor this whole time, not needing to act as much as Arthur was. He painfully pulled himself across to where Arthur was lying. To anyone standing, it looked as if the prince's eyes were shut, but Merlin could see that they were open by a fraction, watching what was going on. The cloak no longer covered his face; the fall had moved it so that it was now obvious who was lying on the floor.

Merlin could hear Greg's horrified gasp as he pretended to be checking Arthur's pulse.

"My lord? Can you hear me, Sire? Please, Sire, answer me!"

Arthur was once again tempted to laugh; Merlin had never spoken to him that respectfully before. He feigned a groan and slowly cracked his eyes open, pretending to be wincing all of the time. It was lucky that Merlin had his back to everyone else, for he was not quite as successful as Arthur at hiding the fact that he was trying not to laugh.

"Guards!" a voice called from somewhere above them, and as the person's shoes came into Arthur's sight, he smiled at Merlin, who was by this point biting his lip in an attempt to control the laughter that was threatening to erupt from his mouth. "That man struck the prince! Take him to the dungeons immediately!"

"Wait," Arthur cut in, pretending to be struggling to his feet. The initial plan had been that Merlin was to help him up, but as the two rose, it was more of the other way around.

"I think that Gwen should decide what to do with him."

Quickly, the lady Morgana took a startled look at Arthur, anxious that the blow had done more than he was letting on, before spinning around and facing her maidservant, who was looking as flummoxed as she was feeling.

"Me?" Gwen blurted out, her thoughts racing. There was only one reason she could think of that would make Arthur let her judge Greg, and she wasn't aware that he even knew about it. She hadn't even told Morgana. Merlin had only found out because he had been passing at the time and the look on her face meant that he didn't stop asking until she told him exactly what had happened.

"Yes, you," Arthur responded, watching her face carefully. He could tell by the closed look that had come over her usually open face that she didn't want anyone to know what had occurred. And he wasn't going to be the one to make her open up.

"Merlin and I have a little bet on. He believes that servants can make the same important decisions as anyone else, so how about you take control of this one? That way, he at least can't accuse me of being unfair and not giving anyone else a chance."

Merlin shot him a look, but it was deeper than his normal sarcastic one. To Morgana, Gwen, Greg and anyone else in sight, it was the look of someone who had a bet going, but to the two boys it was different. Arthur could tell, just by that look, that Merlin had also realised that Gwen didn't want to open up and was grateful for Arthur finding a way around it.

"In that case, he should spend the next month in the stocks, even if it is raining. Then he should be sacked," as Gwen declared her judgement on Greg, the guards, who had silently appeared at Morgana's summoning, pulled him away. Luckily for him, it was perfect timing, for as Greg disappeared around one corner, Uther appeared around the opposite one.

"Arthur!" the king exclaimed, looking horror struck at the appearance of his son. "What happened? Have you been in a fight?"

"Not as such, Father," Arthur replied, wondering how his father was going to react. It would be one of two extremities, that was for sure. "An incompetent servant struck me, that is all."

"A servant???" Uther thundered, looking suddenly murderous. Unfortunately for Merlin, the king then caught sight of him, also bloody and bruised. He knew that he was a servant, so the King put two and two together.

"Guards! Arrest that boy!" as Uther pointed at Merlin, Arthur turned to look at him, as if expecting to find someone else behind him rather than his own manservant.

"No, Father!" he cried, realising what conclusion Uther had come to and couldn't believe that he had managed to put Merlin in so much danger. "Not him! Someone else. The guards have already taken him, and his punishment has been set on my authority, as it was me whom he struck."

Uther lowered his hand and glared at both his son and his son's servant.

"I suggest you return to your chambers immediately, Arthur, and get yourself cleaned up. And as for you, boy, go down to the kitchen and make yourself presentable before returning to wait upon your prince," Uther's voice was like ice, and everyone present was glad when he strode off. Morgana quickly marched off as well, Gwen following more slowly behind.

Knowing what kind of tricks his father was likely to set to make sure that his orders were followed, Arthur sent Merlin towards the kitchens, before disappearing in the opposite direction.

Merlin limped down the corridor glumly. Although he was happy that Greg had finally been dealt with, he was now stiff and sore and knew that Arthur wasn't feeling much better. Before he had time to dwell on what he would say to explain his injuries in the kitchen, a cloaked figure slipped from the shadows and fell into step with him.

"Are you alright?" Arthur asked softly, making sure that the cloak was once again covering him.

"What are you doing here?" Merlin whispered back furiously. He knew that the king had sent Arthur to his room and was certain that he'd seen the prince walk off in the other direction.

"If my Father thinks that he can send me to my room like a naughty child then he can think again. Believe it or not, I do know my way around some parts of the castle. I simply slipped through a small passageway and caught up with you. Now, you didn't answer the question. Are you alright?"

"I'll live," Merlin replied.

The two walked in companionable silence for a while, both lost in their own thoughts regarding what had just happened.

"Thank you, Merlin," Arthur said rather suddenly, startling the warlock walking beside him. At seeing Merlin's clueless look, Arthur continued. "If it wasn't for you, then I would have never found out about Greg and nothing would have been done about it. Promise in the future that if anything like this happens again, you'll let me know? I _will_ listen."

Merlin nodded, a smile forming itself on his lips, making him wince at the same time. He appreciated all that Arthur had just done. Not just with giving Greg what he deserved, but also giving Gwen the chance to have a say and covering for her in an awkward situation. To the young man, he saw it all as a sign of what kind of king the prince would one day make.

"I can't believe that Greg seemed to think that I was some sort of hero," Arthur continued, not noticing that Merlin had dropped back by a few paces. "It would have been nice to have some warning. I nearly blew the whole thing because of that. Merlin?"

Arthur turned to look back for his servant, but what he saw was neither what he expected, nor anything that would leave his mind any time soon. For in the middle of the corridor, Merlin was spread, unconscious.


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you so much for all of you who have reviewed so far-means a lot to me! **

**this chapter is my celebrationary chapter for passing my theory test this morning! wanted to celebrate in some way so what better than up loading a new chapter!?! :)**

The door to the kitchen burst open with an almighty crash, making Mary spin around quickly, spilling stew in her haste. The sight in the doorway made her scream in shock, her hand covering her mouth. Framed in the doorway, a young man draped in a blue cloak stood, littered with numerous cuts. In his arms, another figure was lying, unconscious. He was also covered in injuries, but the trademark clothes were enough to send the old cook sprinting across the kitchen as fast as her legs would carry her.

"Oh my goodness. Merlin! What on earth happened?"

"I'm not sure," the young man responded, making Mary look at him in surprise. She was certain that it was the same man that had been in here earlier with Merlin. What was his name? Oh, of course, Archie. But yet, Mary couldn't figure out how an ordinary servant could speak so properly. Now she started to think about it, there was something familiar about him…

"We got in a bit of a fight earlier, but he was fine after that. One minute we were talking, and the next…" Arthur motioned to the unconscious figure in his arms. The boy was so ridiculously light that it required no effort at all on Arthur's behalf to carry him.

In order to allow Mary a closer look at him, the prince laid him out on a nearby table. Mary took one long look at him and shook her head, a sad light in her eyes. Sighing, she collected a small bowl of water and a cloth and set about washing the cuts on Merlin's face. With the blood wiped away, the cuts didn't look as bad, but it showed just how pale he was.

"Shall I fetch Gaius?" Arthur asked, desperate to be able to do something to help his friend. He looked so small and vulnerable lying there. It gave Arthur the desire to stand guard and prevent anything bad from ever happening to him again.

"He isn't here," Mary responded, sending Arthur another puzzled look. Arthur could practically see the clogs turning as she tried to place where she had seen him before and why he had suddenly found his voice from earlier. "Gaius went away three days ago to the outer villages. They have some sort of disease there and the king was worried that it would spread to the city if not treated. That's why Merlin is unconscious."

"Because Gaius isn't here?" it was Arthur's turn to be puzzled. He knew that the two of them were close. In fact, how often had he envied their relationship, as it was so much closer than his own with his father. But yet, just because they were close didn't explain why Merlin was lying unconscious on a kitchen table.

"Yes," Mary replied, the sadness in her eyes deepening as she looked upon the still form in front of her. "Merlin can't cook, and Gaius hasn't been here to make sure that he's been eating. Even when Gaius is here, apparently Merlin is often so busy that he forgets at least one meal a day. And with no one to remind him for the last three days…"

As her voice trailed off, Arthur looked at his friend, horrified. Why hadn't the idiot said something about not having eaten? For goodness sake, he had sat and watched Arthur demolish his breakfast only a few hours ago, not saying a word about being hungry. But with a start, Arthur realised that he had been so lost in his own thoughts that he hadn't noticed any expression on Merlin's face, let alone if he had said anything.

"Excuse me," he said suddenly standing. He quickly made his way out of the kitchen, shutting the door carefully behind him. With the sounds of the hustle and bustle sealed off, Arthur couldn't control his emotions any longer. Leaning back on the wood of the door, the prince was as surprised as anyone when hot tears started falling.

He felt so guilty for not having noticed the state that Merlin was in. He also felt responsible. If he hadn't pushed him so far, then the servant would not have forgotten to eat. At the end of the day, Arthur knew it was because of him that Merlin was in the weak state that he was in and yet he still had the cheek to call his servant his best friend.

As he stood there, his mind in chaos, he didn't notice Morgana round the corner. She took one look at him and rushed over, throwing her arms around him and holding him close, the way that she had comforted him many times when they were younger. Her presence made Arthur open up even more and soon he found himself practically sobbing into her shoulder.

"What is it, Arthur?" she murmured softly into his blonde hair. "Are you alright? Is Merlin okay?"

Immediately she knew that she had hit on the problem as Arthur stiffened and drew away.

"No," he said somewhat angrily, "he isn't alright. He's lying in there, unconscious, because I was a prat. How could I have not noticed that he wasn't eating? What kind of friend does that make me when I only know that something is wrong when he collapses on me?"

Morgana stared at him, startled. She too had noticed how thin Merlin was, but never to the extent that she didn't realise that he hadn't been eating.

"He needs you in there, Arthur," she told him, anxious to make him realise that this wasn't his fault. "He needs _you_, not as whoever you're pretending to be today, not as his master, but as his friend. Now, go on, get in there."

Morgana watched with satisfaction as her words did the trick. Arthur seemed to straighten and his head lifted, revealing the prince within. He threw the cloak away from him, squared his shoulders and marched through the kitchen doors, back in control of the situation. Smiling softly to herself, Morgana continued her search for Gwen. That girl was hiding something as well, that was for sure.

Mary had finished cleaning up Merlin as best as she could and sat back watching his still body. She knew that the only thing that she could do was to wait until he woke up and then make sure that he ate something. She felt angry with the boy for letting things get this bad, but also with his master. The two of them spent most of their time in each other's company, yet the prince seemed not to have noticed that anything was wrong.

Just as the thoughts flickered through her head, the door burst open once again, and who should walk in, but the crown Prince of Camelot? Mary jumped to her feet and curtsied deeply, blushing all the while. She felt as if she had committed treason just by thinking the thoughts that had gone through her head, but to have the prince walk in on her now was not what she needed when she felt so angry with him.

Ignoring the cook, Arthur strode past her and crouched down by Merlin's side.

"Come on, you idiot," Arthur told him, not caring who was around to hear. "How could you do this to yourself and not tell me? How could I have not noticed? You have to wake up and eat, or so help me, I will _make _you!"

Listening to the prince speak to his servant, Mary felt some of her anger start to ebb away. His tone was not one of a master who was annoyed because they were wasting the day, but one of a friend.

Watching him closely, the cook could make out the signs of some early bruising coming out on his jaw, along with a trickle of dried blood from his temple. Frowning, she looked again. The injuries were in exactly the same place as those of that mysterious Archie. As the prince shifted position, realisation dawned of her.

"Sire!" she gasped and then blushed even deeper when Arthur turned to look at her. "You're…he…you…" taking a deep breath, the cook looked the prince straight in the eye. "You're Archie, aren't you?"

"Ha ha," a weak chuckle came from in between Arthur and Mary, causing them both to jump in surprise. "I told you that you wouldn't be able to make it through the morning."

"I didn't realise that collapsing was all part of a trick to show me up," Arthur responded lightly, a smile threatening to split his features in two while Merlin struggled to sit up. As the young warlock swung his legs around off the table, Mary hurried forward with a bowl of stew.

"Eat this," she told him, handing it to him along with a spoon, the concern evident on her face. "I'm not letting you out of my kitchen until you have."

Merlin took the bowl offered with heartfelt thanks. Watching him eat, Arthur realised that he was having trouble to maintain sitting up, so slipped himself on the table. Sitting directly behind Merlin, Arthur allowed him to lean back, supporting what little weight he had. Mary watched them both fondly, before something dawned on her, making her gasp again.

"Sire! I cannot say how sorry I am. You must think me to be dreadful; I didn't really mean those things that I said about you earlier. Honest, milord! I was just angry at the time."

Arthur smiled at her, shifting his position slightly as Merlin continued to gobble down the food.

"Don't be. In fact, I owe you thanks. It is because of your honesty that I was able to find out what was going on with all of the servants and the situations that they keep getting themselves in. Merlin here doesn't tell me anything. At all. Even when it concerns his own _health_!"

At Arthur's angry tone, Merlin looked up from the bowl sheepishly.

"I didn't _not _tell you. I just…well…I just forgot, okay!"

Arthur sighed and rolled his eyes, but failed to keep the grin off his face. He was too relieved that Merlin was awake again to be angry at him. That would just have to be saved for another time, when he was feeling better.

"You could have at least told me that Gaius was away. Honestly, Merlin, only you could forget to eat for three days in a row. Weren't you hungry at all?"

Merlin decided that it was probably safer to not answer Arthur's question. In all honesty, no, he had not been hungry. He had been so busy that food hadn't actually crossed his mind. The tear tracks down Arthur's cheeks made him think that it wouldn't go down well telling him that now.

Hopping down from the table, Merlin looked at Arthur expectantly. Whilst Mary, bless her heart, had cleaned up his own cuts whilst he had been unconscious, Arthur still had blood running down his face. If the king caught him like that…

"Come on, Sire. We should get you back to your room and cleaned up before the king finds you."

Arthur groaned at the mention of his father, but climbed down from the table nevertheless. He knew that Merlin was right. Again. And that it was only a childish part of him that had rebelled against his father earlier. The bigger, more mature part of him – although Merlin would certainly question that – knew that walking around the castle covered in blood was a quick way to stir up a panic.

The two of them thanked Mary for all her help, not missing how badly she was blushing as she tried to curtsy to Arthur on his way out. As they left the kitchen, Arthur bent down and plucked something from the shadows, ignoring Merlin's puzzled glance.

Donning the cape, Arthur almost let out a sigh of relief. Something that the morning had taught him was how nice it was to be able to walk around the castle without everyone jumping up to bow or scurry out of the way. Arthur had surprised himself with how much he had enjoyed being simply a servant; it seemed a lot less confusing.

The prince decided to let Merlin lead back to his room. Although he was sure that he would be able to find the way, he really wanted the warlock in front of him at all times so that he would notice if _anything _happened.

Luckily, Merlin managed to get to Arthur's chambers with only stumbling once. To his surprise, as soon as he felt his footing slip, Arthur's arm immediately snaked across his chest, holding him upright. He refused to let go until Merlin was once again steady, but said not a word throughout the whole incident.

When they reached the room, Merlin found himself pushed into Arthur's chair and a bowl of something shoved down in front of him.

"Where did you get that from?" the puzzled Merlin asked, not missing the smug grin that was spreading across Arthur's face.

"From the kitchens, where else? As it's for you, I'm sure Mary won't mind. She seems to have a soft spot for you, Merlin. Now, eat."

Knowing from experience that it was pointless to try and argue with Arthur when he used that tone of voice, Merlin obliged. Even after already having eaten one bowl of stew, it didn't take him long to demolish the second. Contented, he sat back in the chair, feeling as if he was going to explode.

"Another?" Arthur asked, watching him closely. Merlin could see the guilt in the prince's eyes and knew that for the next few days, at least, Arthur was going to be trying to force feed him. Shaking his head, Merlin opened his mouth to answer, but was cut off suddenly from an outburst outside of Arthur's door.

"ARTHUR PENDRAGON!" before either of them could move, Morgana burst like a hurricane through the door, her face furious. Gwen was hovering just outside, looking like she had been crying.

"Where is he? Where is the scum? I swear I'm going to kill him! How are you feeling, Merlin?"

The question caught Merlin off guard; he had been too busy watching the sparks fly from Morgana's eyes. Once again, before he had the chance to answer, Arthur cut in.

"Where is who? I'm hoping you have a good reason for this, Morgana. As you can see, Merlin is trying to eat."

Morgana spared once glance at Merlin, who looked at the empty bowl in front of him. Not that Arthur was trying to use him as a distraction because the fiery temper of the king's ward was scaring him. Not at all.

"Greg!" Morgana spat.

Realisation hit both boys at the same time. Gwen had told her mistress why Arthur had allowed her to pass judgement on him, and Morgana was not pleased. Anxious to try and defuse the situation before Morgana had to be arrested for murder, Arthur kept his tone cool.

"He is carrying out the punishment that Guinevere set for him. Rest assured, after he has been in the stocks for a month and then sacked, he will never set foot in this castle again."

Morgana looked slightly taken back that Arthur seemed to know exactly why she was so fired up. Turning on her heel, she shot Merlin one last glance before striding from the room, leaving a stunned silence in her wake. Merlin had seen her angry before, but this seemed to be way beyond anything that even Arthur had experienced.

For a few moments, they both simply sat there, Arthur perching on the edge of his bed.

"The situation is going to change around here," Arthur announced suddenly, causing Merlin to look up at him quickly. "I'm going to make sure that the servants get at least an afternoon off per week. If they alternate, then we won't exactly be short staffed.

And I want you, _Mer_lin, to be my spy. Anything going on like the Greg situation and you report it to me immediately. I don't want something like this happening again, it was too out of control."

Merlin smiled softly. He would have never have guessed that a simple bet would have made Arthur so determined to change things. He thought that he had seen every side that there was to Arthur, but apparently not.

"You know something, _Sire_," he began cheekily. "You lost the bet. That means that I can have the afternoon off today whilst _you_ muck out your own horses."


	4. Chapter 4

"Come on, Arthur. Put your back into it."

The look that Arthur threw Merlin was normally enough to make the fiercest of his knights quake, but the younger boy only responded with a 'quite-pleased-with-himself' grin. Covered in horse muck probably didn't help the look, Arthur mused to himself as he shifted yet another spade of dirt. Perched on the edge of the stable door, Merlin had kept up a running commentary for the entire time that they had been in the stables. Arthur had been convinced that Merlin was slow at his jobs, yet having to do just one of them himself, found himself respecting his servant even more than before.

Merlin was still looking pale, but he was so cheerful that it was almost impossible to tell that only a few hours ago he had been unconscious.

As Arthur once again swung the shovel towards the pile of something that he didn't even want to consider, Merlin glance over his shoulder. Seeing someone enter the stables, he flung himself off the stable door and almost landed on top of Arthur, bringing the prince down with him.

"Merlin, what are – ?"

"Shh!"

Lying on a hard stable floor with his servant next to him, Arthur could not remember the last time that he'd felt this confused. What on earth did Merlin think he was playing at? As the two of them lay where they had landed, Arthur could hear footsteps enter the stable. A muffled voice sounded somewhere from above their heads, but when Arthur made to move to hear better, Merlin stopped him with a warning glance.

Eventually, after what felt like a lifetime, Merlin shifted, motioning that it was safe to once again get up. As Arthur attempted to straighten his dirty clothes, Merlin peered out of the stable door, obviously checking that the coast was clear, although from whom, Arthur had no idea.

"Phew, he's gone. That was close. He's going to find me before long…"

"Merlin! Who the hell are you talking about? What just happened?" Arthur demanded angrily. Whilst he had refrained from complaining about mucking out the horses – he had lost the bet, after all – this was going too far. Whether he was acting as the prince or not, no one liked being unceremoniously thrown to the floor.

"Sir Owain," Merlin responded bluntly. Arthur stared at him; Owain was a good, kind man. Out of all of the knights, it was Owain whom he had the most respect for; he was a good fighter, but more importantly, had a good heart. Why Merlin would want to hide from him was beyond Arthur.

Seeing the prince's confused look, Merlin continued.

"If you want to be on the receiving end of one of his lectures, go ahead. He hero-worships you, Arthur, and takes great delight in telling me all of your wonderful skills every time he sees me. He doesn't shut up for about half an hour, so I've taken to avoiding him before _someone _tells me off being late."

Stepping out of the stable, Merlin held the door for Arthur before carefully bolting it shut behind the prince. For someone who was so clumsy and careless, it surprised Arthur how attentive Merlin actually was to his chores.

"You know something, Merlin? For someone who can forget to eat for three whole days, you do a pretty good job at remembering things like stable doors."

"Is that actual praise?" Merlin responded, casting Arthur another grin. The smile was infectious and Arthur couldn't help but smile back. It was good to know that Merlin was going to be all right and that things would be better for the servants from now on.

If only that blasted rain would stop…

The two boys walked side-by-side to the entrance of the stables and peered out into the rain, preparing to make a break for it. Before they could do so, a figure appeared through the sheets of cascading water, leading a white horse. Arthur glanced at Merlin and was surprised to see a huge grin spreading across his face. Before the prince could say anything, the younger boy had darted out into the rain to greet the figure.

Arthur didn't have long to wait to find out who it was. Leading the horse, Merlin returned, chattering non-stop to a very bemused and wet Gaius.

The old physician pulled up short when he saw that Arthur was in the stables, and bowed stiffly, staring at Arthur's attire. Arthur could tell by the look in his eyes that he was desperate to find out why the prince of Camelot was dressed in old clothes and had nearly every inch of him covered in horse muck. In comparison, Merlin looked remarkably tidy.

"So, did anything interesting happen whilst I was away?" he asked Merlin, not taking his eyes of Arthur.

Both boys looked at each other and smiled. A twinkle sparked from one set of blue eyes to another, giving them identical 'innocent' looks that instantly made Gaius suspicious. Answering in unison, master and servant responded.

"Nope, nothing at all."

**So, that's all for that one! There could possibly be a sequel to this as well, with Greg returning to cause more trouble, but you'll have to let me know whether you want me to continue or just leave it here how it is!**

**Thanks for all those who reviewed!! ******


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